


Yes, Coach Blake

by flying_snowmen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Football | Soccer, there is also language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flying_snowmen/pseuds/flying_snowmen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke loves soccer almost as much as she loves drawing. She played nearly fifteen years without a bad experience. Then, in her sophomore year at the perfect college with the number one women’s soccer team in the league, she meets the new assistant coach: Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. night, princess

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by both [this prompt](http://underbellamy.tumblr.com/post/89268913768/bellarke-highschool-au-bellamy-blake-was-a-new) and [this gifset](http://nathan--wuornos.tumblr.com/post/89776756958/lightwoulds-come-on-griffin-hustle-yeah). This is my first time writing for this fandom and also my first time writing on AO3. It's a day for firsts, guys. Also, I am sorry in advance for any soccer/medical things I get wrong. Clarke is kind of OOC. I made her a little more violent? It just kind of happened.

Clarke loves soccer almost as much as she loves drawing. She played nearly fifteen years without a bad experience. Then, in her sophomore year at the perfect college with the number one women’s soccer team in the league, she meets the new assistant coach: Bellamy Blake. An arrogant asshole, if you ask her. But all the other girls like him, and some probably want to fuck him. Clarke gets it. He’s incredibly sexy, but no amount of toned abs and messy hair can mask the fact that he drives her up-the-wall insane whenever he tries to correct her bicycle kick. It has worked for five years, and it will stay that way. To make matters worse, he always smirks when she eats grass or fouls particularly brutally.

She knows that he was one of the best college soccer players America had seen in a while, and he suddenly dropped out for reasons unknown to the public. Then, two years later, he resurfaces as assistant coach at her college. At twenty two, he could have been playing professionally, but instead he yells at her to run laps or do sit-ups until she wants to vomit.

"Don’t run for the ball like you’re starving and it’s the only sandwich within five miles. You overshoot the target and end up kicking the girl in the shin.” He says almost as an afterthought when she yanks the cap off her water bottle and soaks herself in an attempt to bring her body temperature back to healthy levels.

“What?” She almost forgets to say something back once she realizes that yes – he is talking to her of all people. The girl who scored the winning goal for the past two games.

“You’ve kicked three girls in the shin in the last five games we’ve had. You run too quickly for the ball that you lose control and miss.” He smirks, crossing his arms across his broad chest. He takes far too much pleasure in correcting her for insignificant things.

“Sorry if I hustle. That’s better than half the girls I play against.” She takes a gulp of water and rubs away the stray droplets that ran down her neck.

His smirk falters for a moment before he’s back at it again. “Whatever you say, Princess, just try not to get kicked out of any games this season.”

And with that she’s fuming because the only reason her team didn’t win last year was because the referee fucking red carded her with three minutes to go, and the other team managed to sneak past her substitute with three minutes to spare. The whole school nearly threw tomatoes at her for the rest of the semester. “What did you just call me?”

“What?” He smiles. “Princess? I thought it was clever. Co-captain on her sophomore year. Refuses to take any advice from anyone, let alone the assistant coach who has far more experience and talent than her.”

“Oh,” she laughs, “you’re the expert soccer player here, how could I forget? Yes, please, tell me how your career worked out again? Was it your choice or your manager’s that you should coach – as an assistant coach – a college soccer team?”

She nearly apologizes when she sees the look on his face, but he turns on his heel and stalks off before she can get in another word. Maybe she went too far, but who is he to judge her? They have known each other for maybe a quarter of a season? He can’t just presume to know everything about her.

Either way, as she walks back to the locker room, she can’t shake the guilt that overcomes her. It’s just Bellamy fucking Blake. An insignificant assistant coach. A blip in the road that will be her life. Yet, his face right after the words escaped her mouth stays. Maybe that plays a part in why it takes her nearly an hour to take a shower and dress, but when she leaves the locker room twenty minutes after the last girl, the sky is drenched in black.

She marches across the soccer field to take a shortcut back to her dorm. She is rounding the bleachers to approach the football field when she sees him. Running around the field in low-ridden sweat pants and an incredibly thin white tank top is none other than Bellamy Blake. He doesn’t see her as he finishes his laps, or when he gulps down what seems like a quart of water. He does see her, however, when he smirks wickedly in a way that tells her he knows that she likes what she sees. He does see her when he peels off his shirt and tosses it to the side to resume running. He does see her when he shouts, “Night, Princess!”, when she storms off in the opposite direction and decides to take the long way home.


	2. what happened this time, my girl?

Slumping down on her couch, Clarke huffs obnoxiously loud so that her roommate will know that her presence is requested. Within a few seconds, Raven Reyes is bouncing out of their shared bedroom into what they call a living room. Clarke nearly can’t believe that she and Raven became friends after everything that happened.

She came back to college her second semester of freshman year to discover that the boy she had almost fallen in love with had a girlfriend waiting on the side. Granted, he thought Raven wanted nothing to do with him. She had left to build houses in Chile and stopped responding to his letters halfway through the trip. Then, come Christmas break after the first semester of college, she shows up with a few sunburns and all the letters that the Chilean postal service could never send due to governmental disputes with the US. In any case, both Clarke and Raven decided it best to cut romantic ties Finn and adopted each other. They had been best friends ever since.

“What happened this time, my girl?” Raven jumps over the back of the couch to fall down next to Clarke. She smiles brightly and pulls her into a hug as Clarke continues to huff and puff like the Big Bad Wolf.

“We got into an argument during practice. He called me princess, and I might have said some things I probably should not have. Then, when I was walking back here, he caught me checking him out, and I know he will use that against me until the day I die.” Clarke lets out a breath of air. She just needed everything out in the open. Raven calms her down just by sitting there with her.

“So, you were checking him out, huh?” Clarke doesn’t need to look up to see Raven’s Cheshire grin. She feels Raven's chest rumble as laughs start to pour out.

“That’s all you picked up from that? Not that he called me princess? Not that we argued?” Clarke tries to detach herself from her friend, but Raven keeps her grip strong. Clarke gives in easily, anyway.

“Oh, I know why he called you princess.” Raven smirks at the incredulous look on Clarke’s face. “Please, even you can see that. Your mother is the president of the medical school. Your father heads the engineering department. You are the MVP every year, and you are captain of one of the best college soccer teams in the nation at 19. (Clarke’s whispered, “Co-captain,” goes unnoticed.) You are staying in an off-campus apartment in your sophomore year that your parents helped you afford.”

Clarke pushes herself away from Raven, smirking happily. “Don’t pull that card, missy. You live here too, and you benefit from their help just as much as I do.”

Raven holds her arms up in surrender. “No argument there, but it doesn’t make the title any less valid. There is nothing wrong with being the princess of the soccer team, Clarke. Someone’s gotta do it, why not you?” At Clarke’s groan, she continues. “Besides, look where he’s coming from. You have everything in his eyes.”

“Oh please, he was the soccer world’s hero until he decided to drop off the map.” Clarke blows the hair that has fallen into her face to the side and tries to put up her most done-with-it look.

“He did that to help his sister. Octavia Blake. She goes here. Freshman. Their mother died, and he needed to move back home to raise her. Then she went here, so he followed.”

Clarke pulls her jaw back into place and shakes her head. “Excuse me, how do you know all this? You’re not even on the soccer team.”

Raven sighs and pinches her nose. “Look, I didn’t tell you this because I knew you would react badly, but a while back, I slept with Bellamy. We met at a party, and he was pretty sad. It was just after everything with Finn, and I needed to get back on my feet and so did he. So we slept together, not like it helped any. But we talked a lot afterward, and he told me everything. I told him a lot too. It was just cathartic, and then we parted ways.”

Clarke scoots closer to the girl, placing her hand on her knee. “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, I wouldn’t judge you. I had my fair share of one-night stands after the break-up too.”

Raven’s melancholy smile strains her face. “I don’t know. We became friends, and I learned to live without depending on Finn. Life got better. I forgot about it. Then he shows up here, and you hate him. I just didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Clarke pulls her friend close. After they moved in together, heart-to-hearts became a regular thing. “Nothing you could do would make me think less of you, Raven. You’re my best friend, and I love you. You know that.”

Raven smiles and pulls back from Clarke. “But if you ever get the chance, you should definitely sleep with him. Ow!” Raven laughs at the punch Clarke sends her way. “What? If there’s one thing I can say about Bellamy Blake, it’s that he knows how to please a woman.”

Clarke tries to cover the blush that spreads across her cheeks, but she just gets up and walks into what they call the kitchen. “I’m going to order take-out. Want anything in particular? Chinese?”

“Oh,” Raven squirms in her seat. “You know me so well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I love Raven and Clarke as best friends. It needs to happen. Anyway, sorry if the Finn/Raven/Clarke story is confusing...I tried.


	3. we've both been promoted

Going to practice the next day was more difficult than she had expected. Throughout all her classes, she felt the tugging in her stomach that told her to just go home and skip. Don’t deal with Bellamy Blake today. But alas, she still went, and damn good she did. Halfway through, Clarke is running down the field to catch Roma, who is dodging players left and right. Right when she’s about to steal the ball away, she hears a scream and whips her head around to see Monroe tightly griping her leg and hissing in pain.

“Monroe! What happened?” Clarke runs across the field the instant she sees her co-captain down. This can’t be happening. “Look at me, Monroe.” The girl on the ground looks up, biting her lip in an attempt to prevent tears from falling. “Let me look at your leg.”

Clarke majors in pre-med, and Monroe knows this better than anyone. You don’t get to be good co-captains without having a few late nights, drinking wine from your parent’s cupboard and sharing horror stories.

Clarke wishes she wasn’t the top of her class so she could doubt her diagnostic that Monroe fractured her leg. But she knows better, and she knows that Monroe needs to get to the hospital. “What happened?”

Clarke turns to Bellamy, putting all their arguing aside. “She needs to get to the hospital. She fractured her leg.” Bellamy nods and runs to his bag, presumably to get his phone and dial 911. At least, that’s what Clarke hopes he’s doing.

“Is everything ok?” Roma looks over Clarke’s shoulder. “Damn, Monroe. You are one tough bitch.” Monroe laughs, and Clarke is grateful that pain isn’t the only thing on her mind. “So what happens now?”

“What do you mean?” Monroe asks, releasing her grip on her leg to let Clarke inspect it for any other damages.

“Well, you’re co-captain. What now?” Roma asks, looking more to Clarke this time. Honestly, Clarke has no idea. “I mean, does this mean you’re full captain now? At least until Monroe gets better.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy jogs up next to them. “It does.” He and Clarke share a glance briefly before he changes the subject. “The ambulance should be here soon. Everything’s going to be fine, Monroe.” Clarke can’t help but admire the smile he sends to Monroe. It’s comforting and reassuring. Everything Monroe needs right now, and it’s coming from Bellamy Blake of all people.

* * *

 

“Out the whole season?” Clarke nearly shouts at her mother. “Mom, Monroe is one of our best players. She is my co-captain. What am I supposed to do?”

Abby shushes Clarke and pulls her aside. “Look, Monroe has had problems with her leg in the past. She needs to make sure that her leg heals completely this time, so that she doesn’t fracture the bone again.”

Clarke sighs and nods. Her mother is right, as always. “Just, help her. Ok?” Abby nods and smiles at her daughter before walking back behind the doors separating the hospital from the waiting room. Great, just great. Now she’s captain all alone. It wasn’t that Monroe was this great co-captain. Clarke ended up hauling most of the weight, but Monroe was a hell of a player and she gave Clarke the support she needed.

Bellamy approaches Clarke tentatively. She lets of a frustrated huff, “You look like you need to tell me my father died. What happened?”

“You’re not going to like this, but something happened to Coach.” Bellamy pauses, thinking about how to phrase his next words before just spitting it out. “Jaha has mono.”

“What?” Clarke laughs. “Like ‘the kissing disease’ mono? Mononucleosis?”

 “Yes, that one.” Bellamy says, slightly shocked that Clarke isn’t ripping her hair out. She seemed pretty upset about becoming sole captain of the team just a few moments before. Then, it hits Clarke.

“He’s going to be out for weeks, maybe even months. He could be out the rest of the season.” She looks up at him, giving a pitifully half-assed smile. “We’ve both been promoted today.”

“It’s just us running the team, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to get another chapter up today because I'm going to be going on vacation for the next few days. I'll try to update there, but I like to swim, guys. Anyway, I know Monroe didn't really interact with Clarke, but I thought it'd be fun if they were friends.


	4. big baby

She’s surprised they don’t kill each other the first week. Sure, there is plenty of yelling at each other, kicking the ground, storming away, and ending practice early. But they don’t kill each other. In fact, they never even touch each other. Well, aside from that one time she actually took his hand to get up after she fell. He made sure not to touch her again, though, because the way her hand brushed against his made him feel things a coach shouldn’t feel for a member of his team.

Then, one night after practice, Bellamy is running like he always does. His mind in other places, he trips and hears something that he hopes isn’t a break. He hisses and pushes himself so that he’s sitting on his ass rather than lying on his stomach. He pulls up his pant leg and does his own inspection. He can’t tell much. He just hopes it isn’t broken. He tries standing, but that only results in more pain and more grass in his mouth. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs because he was just thinking about Clarke and how frustrating she could be when he drifted and tripped over a sprinkler in the damn grass.

“The great king has fallen.” He groans. Of all the football fields in all the colleges in all the worlds, and she walks onto his. Well, not his, but the one he uses to run nearly every night, and she knows this.

“What do you want, Princess?” He turns to see the smirk he knew would be planted on her face. Sometimes she looks like the Cheshire cat, and it scares him.

 “Just to help my fellow leader.” She smiles and squats next to him, grabbing for his ankle. He yanks it away, and she sighs. “Don’t be a baby. Let me at it.” He concedes, but not before grunting something about not snapping his leg in half while she’s at it. Her silence terrifies him, and he glances up to check on her. She doesn’t look happy. “It’s not broken, but I think you sprained it. Does this hurt?” And he grumbles when she doesn’t do a very good job of not smiling when he hisses in pain. “Here, let’s get you to that bench and I’ll wrap you up.”

“You keep wraps with you?” He asks when she pulls his arm over her shoulder, using the muscles soccer gave her to push him up.

“Only for practice because I know you all will hurt yourselves no matter what I say.” She chuckles, setting him down on the bench not five feet away from where Bellamy took his fall. He pulls his leg onto the bench and does his best to stay calm when she takes off his shoe and starts to wrap his ankle. He doesn’t even notice each time her fingers graze his ankle. Not once.

“The team doctor as well as the captain. A girl after my own heart.” He jokes and smiles internally when he sees amusement on her face.

“Yeah, too bad I don’t want your heart.” She doesn’t even look up at him. Just continues to wrap his ankle with an intensity he thought she reserved only for soccer.

"Stab me in the heart, why don’t you?” He pokes her shoulder, and she finally looks up at him. Even at night, her eyes make him feel vulnerable.

“You’ll live.” She smiles. Actually smiles. Not a smirk, not a scowl. A smile. She gave one to him, and he feels blessed in a way.

No one speaks for a few seconds that feel like minutes. They’re just smiling at each other for the first time probably ever, and he can’t bring himself to break this moment. She, however, does. “You’re all done.”

He gets up on his leg and hisses again. She pushes him lightly back onto the bench. “Whoa there, cowboy. Not so fast. I’ll help you to your car, where is it?” She prods further when he just ducks his head. “You don’t have a car, do you?”

“Never needed one. I live less than a mile off campus.” He looks up at her again and wants to tear the look of pity from her face. He doesn’t need a car. He can’t afford one either, but he also doesn’t need one. “I walk.”

“Well, you can’t really walk now, can you?” She leans her head back and sighs. “I’ll drive you. My mom’s car is parked in the lot. I have a key for emergencies. It’s not far.”

“Really, Clarke, it’s fine-” He doesn’t get the chance to finish before Clarke is shushing him and insisting that he let her take her home. It’d be her pleasure. “How can I say no to the captain?”

“Ok, let’s head out team.” She puts his arm around her shoulder again and ignores how nice he smells tonight. Maybe every night, but she’s never been close enough to tell. The car isn’t all that far, but it’s far enough that both of them are exhausted by the time they reach it.

The drive doesn’t take long either, and before they know it, Clarke is parked outside his small house. Clarke studies the house with its broken white shutters and dirt lawn. It’s nothing compared to the house she lived in with her parents before moving in with Raven. This one-story house has paint peeling from its walls and a gutter partially hanging from the roof. Despite all this, however, she thinks it looks like a hell of a place to live. There are soccer balls lying on the lawn next to chairs. On the porch, a well-loved barbecue makes her remember summer parties her parents used to have. There is a history to this house that she doesn’t know.

“It used to be my mother’s.” Bellamy shakes her from her thoughts with his words. She looks at him now and sees his eyes squinted in scrutiny. “We never could afford to fix it up.”

“Where is your mother now?” She asks before she can stop herself. She knows the answer to this question, but she can’t take it back now.

“Dead.” His trite response mortifies her, and she fumbles for an apology before a young woman opens the door to the house.

“Bell? Is that you?” The girl closes the door carefully behind her and grips her cardigan closer to her skin, crossing her arms over her chest in the process.

“Yeah, Octavia. Give me a minute.” He reaches for the door, and Clarke quickly jumps into action. She gets out of the car and runs around to help him just as he is getting out. Again, his arm acquaints itself with her shoulder. “I sprained my ankle pretty badly.”

Octavia gets on the other side of Bellamy, and now both girls are helping him up the small step onto the porch and then into the house. Clarke’s cheeks pink when she remembers that she is going into his house, and she never got direct permission. It’s not as if she’s a vampire or anything, but it’d be respectful.

“You’re fine.” Bellamy whispers in Clarke’s ear, and she shivers. Turning to the girl on his other side, he smiles. “Octavia, this is Clarke, the captain of the soccer team. Clarke, this is Octavia, my sister.” He can’t help but wonder what Clarke’s sigh means.

Octavia, ever the extrovert, smiles excitedly. “Hi Clarke. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Bellamy would jab her in the side, but his arms are currently full.

Clarke laughs though, and it calms him down. “Everything your brother told you about me is a lie; I assure you.”

Bellamy felt relieved all too soon. “Not everything." Octavia smiles devilishly. “Your eyes  _are_ gorgeous.” Bellamy stumbles and nearly brings them all down with him.

“You guys are horrible at helping an injured man get to his bed.” He huffs and hopes that all talk about Clarke and what Bellamy may or may not have said about her eyes is over. They reach the bed without any further injuries, though, and Clarke considers that an accomplishment considering that Bellamy weighs a ton. (Okay, so maybe it’s closer to two hundred pounds, but still.)

“Big baby.” Octavia huffs as he plops down onto his bed. She turns to Clarke, extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re a great soccer player, and I don’t just know that because of this oaf.” She hits her brother lightly with her knee and smiles.

“Thanks.” Clarke blushes, which surprises her. She’s never had trouble accepting praise for her soccer talent. But coming from Octavia, it feels different. Maybe it’s too much like getting praise from Bellamy. “Do you play at all?”

“Not well.” She laughs, looking down at the bed foot she just kicked. “I tried learning when I was younger because it was kind of a family legacy.” She smirks at her brother. “But I could never get past all the running. I swim some, though.”

Clarke likes her. She decides that she likes Octavia Blake the moment she calls Bellamy a big baby. “We have a great swim team. You should really consider joining. I think try-outs are in the next few weeks.”

Octavia smiles abashedly. “I don’t know if I’d make it on the team.”

“I know the captain.” Clarke insists. She gets like this sometimes. When she has an idea or plan, she sticks to it. Besides, it helps that she lives with the swim captain.  She smiles confidently, “I’m sure I could talk to her. I hear she’s looking for some freshman.”

Octavia smiles. “That’d be great. I love swimming. I’d never considered joining the team, though.” She looks down at her hand, currently occupied in bouncing against her leg. “Clarke, do you want to stay for dinner? We never have guests, and I’d love to find out more about the soccer team. Bellamy never tells me anything good.” Octavia pouts, and Clarke wishes she could say yes as easily as Octavia can charm her.

Clarke meets the other girl’s green eyes and smiles wistfully. She feels like she’s intruded enough already. “I don’t know if I can tonight.” She looks down and tries to keep her glance toward Bellamy subtle. He hasn’t said anything in a while. “Maybe another time? Or we can go get coffee, and I can bring the swim captain?”

Octavia looks slightly confused, though she has a smile on her face. She looks intently at Clarke and then lets her eyes meet her brother’s. “Yeah, that’d be great.” She starts walking out the door. “I just remembered this Chem assignment I need to do. My friend said he’d call me to help out after his date with his boyfriend.” From the hallway she calls, “I’ll be seeing you later, Clarke!”

Bellamy doesn’t look at Clarke. He keeps his focus preoccupied with holding his ankle as still as possible. Don’t want to hurt it or anything. Got to stay focused.

“Well,” Clarke lets out a quick breath. “Guess I better get going. Regarding your ankle, my diagnosis is that you’ll be better in a week, maybe two. As long as you don’t do anything stupid, which I know will be a great struggle for you.”

“Clever.” He moves to sit against the headboard of his bed. “I’ll still be coming to practice. Don’t think a silly sprain can keep me from whipping you lot into shape for our next game.”

“Yeah, ok, grandpa.” Clarke laughs, and he assumes it’s the image of him on crutches that makes her giddy. But he can’t be sure. “Just try not to break anything while you’re ‘whipping us into shape’ as you sit on the sidelines like an emperor overseeing the gladiators.”

“Now that would be a show.” Bellamy grins like a kid tasting ice cream for the first time. Happy and carefree, something he’s never had the chance to be.

“I’ll see you later, Blake.” Clarke rests her hand on his shoulder and squeezes before turning around. She shouts goodbye to Octavia before he hears the front door close.

When he hears her engine start, he shakes his head. “See you later, Griffin.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is nearly as long as the previous three chapters combined. But hey, there's got to be some development, right? In any case, I'm going to be leaving so I might not update for a few days. Also, on a go-forward basis, I don't think I'll be able to update twice in a day like I've done the past two. I just got very excited and consumed with writing this that everything just kind of happened. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to keep that momentum. Lastly, thank you to everyone who has read, boomarked, commented, or kudos-ed (is that how you would say it?) this work. It really means a lot to me. I hope I don't let you down.


	5. robert morley is a hunk

They came to a sort of truce after Bellamy sprained his ankle. They stopped spending nearly the entirety of practice yelling at each other and decided to actually help the team. (They won their next two games.) Bellamy and Clarke turned out to be pretty good co-leaders. His experience and her fervor inspired the team to really kick it up a notch, and they couldn’t be prouder. (Not like parents. No. Not like parents.)

Octavia even decided that writing about the team would be an interesting article for the school paper.

** Women’s soccer team loses co-captain then coach on same day **

**Remaining captain and assistant coach, known enemies, forced to work together**

Apparently that name didn’t slide with Bellamy, but she’d keep working on it. She knew he would come around eventually. And if he didn’t, she would run it by Clarke, who would assuredly say yes if he said no.

Attending nearly every practice became a must. “I have to see your dynamic running the team if I’m to write about it.” Octavia had insisted upon this point most ardently. When it comes to Bellamy, Octavia gets what Octavia wants. A week after she meets Clarke, she is watching her run ferociously at a feeble freshman who won’t know what hit her. Seeing this side of Clarke actually entertains Octavia more than you would imagine.

“She’s so badass. I love it.” Octavia whispers to herself as she scribbles down some notes about players.

“She’s pretty scary, if you ask me.” Octavia scoffs as Jasper stuffs more raisins into his mouth. That boy would be the end of her if she kept saying yes when he asked to “hang out”. Sure, he had a great sense of humor and always knew how to make her smile, but he always ran his mouth.

“Well, I didn’t.” Octavia brushes her hair to the side of her face as she glances at her brother, shouting commands from the sidelines as he tries to run with his crutches. “Where is your boyfriend? Just go talk to him.”

“Are you insulting my boyfriend behind my back?” Monty appears with three Diet Cokes held precariously in two hands. “Because, believe me, we can insult him together in front of his.”

Monty earns a punch for that. “Keep saying stuff like that and you won’t have a boyfriend.” Jasper’s earnest eyes tell them that they hurt his feelings.

“I’m sorry, babe.” Monty smiles, wrapping his arm around the other boy’s shoulders to pull him in for a kiss.

“Hey, I’m trying to write a paper. The only foreplay I want to see is between Clarke and my brother.” Octavia grins when Clarke scores a goal. The grin turns giddy when Bellamy whoops and cheers for Clarke. She nearly falls off her seat when Clarke runs down the field yelling happily and high-fives her brother’s extended hand.

“Isn’t this article about the team?” Monty questions with a highly raised eyebrow. “Not about the possible sexual tension between the captain and your brother?”

“Sure, sure,” Octavia mumbles before whipping her head to face the two boys, “but which will sell?”

The boys answer unanimously. “Sex.” They’ve heard this argument before. Sex sells. It always does. As a future editor, it is her job to know what sells and what doesn’t. And sex always sells.

“Bingo.” Octavia grins happily for having taught these two something useful, at least in her eyes. “And have you seen the school newspaper? I don’t even know how they sell any copies. Thank whatever being is watching that I got here.”

“What makes you so sure that they’re attracted to each other?” Jasper watches Bellamy intently. “I mean, he could be gay for all we know.”

“Jasper, we’ve had this conversation before.” Octavia groans. “He is not gay, so no; you do not have permission to date my brother.” After a few seconds, she adds, “Same goes for you, Monty.” Octavia laughs heartily at the “Damnit!” that follows.

“At least we have each other.” Monty makes kissy faces at Jasper. Octavia takes that as her cue to leave. Lord knows they’re going to be leaving soon to most likely find new places to have sex.

“You guys are sickeningly cute, and I must go.” Octavia hugs both of them before jumping down the bleachers to where her brother is sitting on the sidelines.

“The town jesters too much?” Bellamy doesn’t have to turn around to know that the pounding footsteps are his sister’s. She loves to stomp her way down the bleachers whenever she gets the chance.

“I love them to death, but I have an article to write.” Octavia slides onto the bench next to her brother, pulling out her notebook. He might give her some quotes, if she asks nicely. He’s never been fond of the spotlight. Even when he was the star soccer player, he kept to himself. Part of that was their mother. She didn’t really want him to focus on the fame over the game. Or school. Keeping Bellamy grounded became one of her top priorities when people started to care about a poor kid from the other side of the tracks. (There weren’t actually tracks.) To this day, Bellamy avoids the spotlight, which is a great disadvantage for Octavia. “So, how’s everything going?”

“Fine.” His terse response elicits a pout from his sister. If he’s this friendly the entire time, she’ll have to turn in a half-page paper entitled “Women’s soccer team wins many games.”

“Things can’t go fine. That’s not proper grammar, brother dear. Things can go well. Or badly. But they can’t go fine.” Octavia pokes her still unresponsive brother. His eyes are glued to the field, and if her guess is correct, Clarke. “What about your ankle? Has that hindered your ability to coach the team? How has your relationship with Clarke changed since she helped you that night? Isn’t she just particularly great today?”

“Yeah.” Bellamy says in a daze before quickly looking at Octavia through the corner of his eye, blushing. “Everything is going well, ok?”

“Maybe I’ll just have to ask Clarke.” Octavia sighs as her voice rises two octaves. “Should I ask her about the difficulty of being team captain when the assistant coach won’t take his eyes off you?”

“Don’t you dare.” Octavia smiles. That’s better than a “fine” and she’ll take it. She knows there is something there. But she’ll let them sort it out on their own. At least for now. “Look, Octavia, I’m kind of busy at the moment. Can you come back later?”

“Sure, you have to get back to your staring intently at the field. I understand. All in a day’s work.” She really tries not to be sarcastic with him. She does. He just makes it impossible with that not-so-jolly giant act.

“Go hang out with your friends.” He looks at her then, smirk on his face. “The longer they stay near me, the harder it will be for them to leave.”

She punches his shoulder. She doesn’t care that he’s “injured”. He’s too much of a smug bastard. “Just because my friends think you’re hot doesn’t mean you are. They think Robert Morley is a hunk.”

“He was a fine actor.” Bellamy’s laugh makes Octavia smile despite herself. He hasn’t always had the chance to be like this recently. After their mother passed away, he left everything to help her. He became her legal guardian. She was only sixteen at the time. He was only twenty.

Their mother didn’t have that much money to leave them. She’d managed to pay off the house, but water and electricity cost money that they didn’t always have. He worked odd jobs and long shifts so that she could focus on school and getting a scholarship. Luckily Ark University, the local college, was in need of more journalism majors at the time, and Octavia was a great journalist. Then the assistant coach of the women’s soccer team took a job at Oakfield University, their rival. It all worked out very well, and they nearly went to church for the first time in ten years to thank a god they had long forgotten.

Giving up soccer was devastating for Bellamy. Octavia could never have asked him to do that for her, but he did willingly and without any questions asked. Now, it’s up to her to make his sacrifice worth it. Not only for him, but for their mother.

“Almost as good an actor as you are a brother.” They share a smile that says more than either can say with words. “Love you, big brother.” With that, she’s gone.

Bellamy stays there the rest of practice. He only speaks to tell Roma that coming around from the left would help her attack the ball more efficiently. Then, practice is over, and everyone is packing their bags.

“What’s up with you, Mr. Reticence?” Clarke smirks as she towels the back of her neck. The towel is soaked when she pulls it away. “Suddenly you have no words?”

“Just thinking, I guess.” Bellamy instantly regrets his answer when he sees the questioning eyebrow on Clarke’s face. “I mean... I don’t know.” He snaps, “Just leave me alone.”

“Bellamy?” Clarke’s expression changes. He hates that he sees concern on her face. He doesn’t need her help. Never has, never will. “Is everything alright? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Look, Clarke,” Bellamy starts, but her eyes stop him. Those clear blue orbs hold compassion and tenderness, things he rarely finds there. “I’m fine, Clarke. Ok?” He stands on his crutches and reaches down for his bag. “I’ll go wait by the car.” (She takes him home now.)

“Sure.” Clarke shakes herself out a daze. “Here, take the keys so you don’t have to wait in this heat.” She doesn’t even register that she’s trusting him with her mother’s car until he smirks, glancing  at her through his eyelashes.

“Are we at this level, Clarke?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Does the Princess trust me?”

“Just leave it alone.” Clarke starts to walk away from the laughing Blake. She doesn’t have to deal with this teasing, and it won’t take long for him to notice that the pink tint of her skin isn’t just from the exercise. He calls out to her before she can get too far. She turns, exasperated. “Yes?”

“Thank you, Clarke.” He smiles, and she’s too stunned to do anything but watch. “Really.” He looks down to his feet now. “For everything. It really means a lot.” He meets her eyes again, and she hopes he can see that she is smiling even though her mouth won’t let her.

“What are co-leaders for?” She turns around and rushes to the locker room. She just needs to wash herself off with a shower.  A very cold shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, still on vacation. I started this chapter several different ways. To paraphrase a well-known (and probably over-used) quote, I wrote this chapter slowly, then all at once. At one in the morning. So please forgive me for any grammatical errors. I do my best. Also, thank you to anyone who has read, Kudos-ed, bookmarked, or reviewed this. I really do appreciate every one of you. Since I can't afford to get you all cookies, have some raisins?
> 
> Addendum: I'll try to update as much as I can. I go home today, but then school stuff and other work starts. (God, I'm going to be a senior...) I know what it's like to wait for updates, but please stay with me! I'll do my best. Really.
> 
> Also, does anyone notice the little jokes and references I put in here? I think they're funny. But I think a lot of things are funny, so...
> 
> This is going to be longer than the chapter! (Not really...)


	6. something about being inspiring and really good

“Is that enough?” Clarke leans forward in her seat slightly as she watches Octavia scribble down words in her notebook. Octavia has been bent over writing nearly the whole time they were in the interview. (If you could call a coffee date and chatting an interview.) When Octavia finally looks up to meet Clarke’s eyes, she can’t help but smile at the frazzled look on the girl's face.

“Compared to my brother,” Octavia snickers as she snaps her book shut, “you are like a well-trained prosecution witness.” She laughs when Clarke cocks her head to the side, amused expression greeting her that Octavia can’t help but note looks like one that has appeared on her brother’s face a multitude of times. “You were great, Clarke.”

Octavia starts to get up when Clarke pulls her back down. “Wait, I have something for you.” Now Octavia is the one to look frazzled as Clarke just smiles happily. Octavia doesn’t notice the bell over the door to the coffee shop ring.

“This the girl you were telling me about?” The girl Octavia sees when she turns around is a sight to behold. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and she wears a smirk that intimidates while it intrigues. Even when she just pulls a chair over to sit on, the girl’s confidence is overt. “I’m Raven.”

Octavia smiles slightly, pulling herself together. She didn’t think Clarke was one for surprises. She holds out her hand, “Octavia.” She pointedly glares at Clarke. “I wasn’t aware we were expecting another person.”

Raven laughs, clasping her hands together on the table. “Clarke’s tactic for things tends to be the ‘I’ll throw you into the water and hope you learn to swim’ kind.” At that, Clarke punches Raven lightly and laughs. “I hear you like swimming.”

Then it all makes sense. “You must be the coach of the team!” Octavia smiles like she’s just discovered gold. “It’s so great to meet you.”

Raven looks at Clarke with an exasperated look on her face. “You didn’t even tell her my name?” She puts her hand on her forehead and leans back with an exaggerated look of defeat on her face. “I can’t believe we are even friends.” She turns back to Octavia with a chuckle and puts on a serious face. “Now, tell me about your swimming history and let’s see if we can work something out.”

Octavia goes on for the next ten minutes about when she starting swimming competitively (in her sophomore year of high school when her mother passed away), why she started swimming passionately (she needed an outlet), and why she stuck with it (the serene feeling right when you dive into the pool and nothing matters but the movement of your body and how it flows with the water). Clarke has to leave about halfway through, but Octavia doesn’t mind being left alone with Raven. She seems to get it. Understand why swimming is so important to her at times.

Raven shares her own experiences with swimming after Octavia opens up to her. She grew up on welfare, and her mother never cared about her all that much. A few blocks from her house, there was a free swimming pool where a bunch of kids would take lessons and have fun. Raven started going there to escape her home and became friends with a kid named Finn, who noticed that she would always sit near the pool but never get in it. He taught her how to swim, and she every moment she spent in the water. In high school, she joined the swim team and realized she actually had talent. Being the best at something always has its rewards. Then, things happened and she had to let go of Finn, but swimming was still there. She joined the college team for the long-course season her freshman year and became the MVP. The team was her family before Clarke.

“How did you become captain?” Octavia takes a sip of her coffee, eyes glued to Raven’s face as she speaks. She’s never met someone as passionate about swimming as her.

“I got really fucking lucky, actually.” Raven smiles in a way that tells Octavia she’s not really with her at the moment. “At the beginning of this year, our would-be captain had to transfer. Our team was left to decide who would be team captain, and fortunately enough, they picked me. Something about being inspiring and really good.”

Octavia laughs, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Fortunately for me, my brother decided to sprain his ankle and get saved by Clarke so that I could meet you.” She hesitates for a moment, considering her next words. “Do you think I have a chance of making it on the team?”

Raven’s smile comforts Octavia. “Honey, anyone that passionate about swimming has my vote.” She stands then, towering over a sitting Octavia. “Just come to try-outs and prove that you have at least half the skill I think you do, and you’ll make it on just fine.”

“Do you always meet with prospective teammates?” Octavia questions as they walk outside the shop, stopping at the corner where they will part ways.

“I try with those I know are seriously considering joining the team.” Raven thinks of the two other girls she's met so far. They seemed nice enough, but Octavia had a flare the team needs. “It helped that you knew my best friend.” Raven likes Octavia. She reminds her of Bellamy, too. At least, what she remembered Bellamy to be. Passionate, pensive, pretty. The Blakes have good genes.

“It does.” Octavia grins slightly before pulling Raven in for a hug. The way Octavia whispers reminds Raven of a lost child, “Thank you. Really.” Once the green-eyed brunette pulls away, she is gone, skipping down the sidewalk to wherever it is she goes.

* * *

 

“How’d it go?” Clarke asks that night over Italian food, eyeing Raven suspiciously. “Do you think she’ll make it on the team?”

Raven laughs. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m not the sole decision maker.” She sighs when Clarke’s curious expression doesn’t change. “I think there is a good chance she’ll make it on the team. She feels the same way I do about swimming, and that has to translate to skill to some degree.”

They leave it at that. Both like Octavia despite the short amount of time they’ve known her. She just charms people so seamlessly, and neither feels all that badly for falling under her spell so soon. “Any closer to following my advice on the Bellamy front?”

Clarke groans, stuffing meat and cheese ravioli into her mouth. “I’m not going to bone my assistant coach, ok? It would be extremely inappropriate.”

“It sounds like that’s the only thing stopping it from happening, my dear.” Clarke’s scandalized face never ceases to make Raven laugh. For five minutes.

“I think that’s my cue to leave!” Clarke tries to shout without a smile on her face, but laughter is contagious in their apartment. “Don’t do anything too rash while I’m gone.” She slams her bedroom door shut and shouts an apology ten seconds after the sound rings throughout the house.

As much as Clarke loves Raven, she can’t escape the feeling that the girl will somehow be her demise. The same probably goes for Octavia and her brother. Especially if Bellamy keeps sending her text messages in the middle of the night.

_princess, we need a new offensive strategy. we can’t just rely on you or roma or harper to pick up the slack for the rest of the team._

_Give it a rest, Bellamy. It’s one am, and I have class THIS MORNING. As much as I love our pillow talk, I need to sleep. It’s hard enough to get to sleep without you hounding me._

_I can think of ways I can help ;)_

_-_-_

_Good night, Bellamy._

_good night, princess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this turned out very differently than I expected. I started writing interactions between Raven and Octavia, and they got flirty. (At least the way I read it.) But I wanted to introduce Lincoln, too? Also, forgive me for any mistakes with the swimming season (or soccer season for that matter). I am not athletically inclined so all my information comes from what I've found on google and my own limited knowledge.
> 
> Anywho, thank you to everyone who has read, Kudos-ed, bookmarked, or reviewed. I know I sound like a broken record, but I will say it after every chapter because I truly am thankful for every one of you.
> 
> I'll try to get the next chapter up within the next two or three days. Thank you for your patience.


	7. what's the story, morning glory?

Clarke doesn’t like losing. She never has. Winning runs in her blood. From the spelling bees in elementary school to the hot dog eating contests with Wells to the valedictorian position in high school, she has been a winner. So whenever she loses a soccer game, it devastates her. She wants to be great at soccer, and she can’t be great when she loses, when she lets down her team.

It’s silly, really. She was sprinting down the field, weaving through players. She could see the goalie preparing Griffin’s comet (her shot had a nickname, now). Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Roma across the field. Not a single person on her. Everyone was going for her. But she kept going for the goal because Clarke Griffin strives to be a winner. She strives to defeat every enemy, but Anya isn’t your average enemy. She’s the best player for Oakfield, or as Ark U likes to call them, the grounders (because Ark U can push Oakfield to the ground any day. It doesn’t make all that much sense, but whoever came up with the name wasn’t exactly Shakespeare).

Roma’s shouts for a pass went unnoticed as Clarke plowed ahead. But when she went to take the shot the goal, unaware the Anya had come up behind her, she was taken down and the ball was cleared back onto their defensive half of the field. The counter-attack left Oakfield’s offense up a man and the Ark’s defense weak, making it easy for Oakfield to score the go-ahead goal.

Clarke didn’t recover, and they lost the game. She brushed off her teammates’ attempts to cheer her up, and she barely spoke a word as they drove back on the bus. She didn’t take a shower, and instead waited in bathroom stall in the locker room until everyone else left.

Now, she’s retreats back to the school soccer field, screaming in aggravation with every soccer ball she shoots. None go into the net. Clarke doesn’t lose. It doesn’t happen like this. Her mother and father raised her to be a winner. She wins.

So why did she lose?

Soon enough, all the balls she had brought out with her lay scattered in various places behind the goal, including the bushes. Instead of running around to collect the others, she collapses onto the grass. Pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she starts to cry. She hates losing. She always feels like this afterward, and she hates feeling like this. Empty, worthless, alone. She can’t support her team. She let them down. She let herself down. The world rests on her shoulders, and she’s letting herself buckle with the pressure.

“Princess?” The shout from the side of the field brings her back to her feet, wiping the tears from her face. She can’t let people see her broken, least of all Bellamy.

“Fuck off.” She turns her head away from him, scratching her head as if she could brush off this guilty feeling.

“Touchy.” Bellamy chuckles, his hands resting comfortably behind his back. “What’s the story, morning glory?” He grins cheekily, angling himself to get a better glimpse of her before he sees her face, his smile falling off his instantaneously. “Whoa, is everything ok?” He moves to stand in front of her, gripping her shoulders lightly as he bends to look into her eyes. “Clarke?”

She waits several moments before falling apart. Fuck it. “It’s all my fault.” Clarke’s tears fall from her eyes like laughter from her father’s mouth. The more she held everything in, the more it all wanted to come tumbling out. “I let the team down. I failed.”

Bellamy had sat with Octavia through nearly every crying spell she’d had. After their mother died, he would sit in a chair by her bed so that when the nightmares inevitably woke her up, he’d be there for her. He knew what to say and when to hug Octavia to help quell her tears.

Bellamy considered himself no stranger to tears, but Clarke is different. Somehow, her tears seem different, and he has no idea how to help the helpless blonde in front of him. So he hugs her, she crumples into him. He holds her until her shoulders stop shaking and the shoulder of his shirt starts to dry. “You didn’t let the team down.”

Clarke pulls back, glaring into his eyes. “I didn’t? You can’t say something you know is a lie. I should have fucking passed to Roma.” She yanks her body out of his grasp, stomping a few feet away and screaming into her hands before settling with her face in her arms, huddled over. “You don’t understand what it’s like. To have everyone count on you and then fail.” Her body is shaking with the built up anger and tension as she stares at the ground.

“Don’t talk to me about that, Princess.” Bellamy rests his hands on his hips, waiting for her to stand up straight and look him in the eye. When she does, he continues, “I had my fair share of people relying on me throughout my life, and everyone fails. That doesn’t mean you get to break down and get mad at people who are just trying to help.”

Clarke takes a slow, deep breath - trying to regain her composure. She doesn’t want to talk to him right now. Not with the way he’s looking at her, eyes piercing a hole into her cheek.  She huffs. “Why won’t you just let me relish in my anger?”

The tension dissipates slightly when he chuckles. “Because if I did, I wouldn’t be a good assistant coach.” He grins when she finally looks up at him. “Or friend. Now come on, let’s get you iced. You sprained your ankle in the game today.” Clarke opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off. “Don’t tell me you didn’t because I saw your face.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go.” He almost starts to walk to her mother’s car, but it’s been a week since he's been on crutches and needed a her to take him home.

“We going or what?” Clarke glances at him with a quizzical eyebrow, starting to pull him toward athletic trainer’s office. She allows herself to wince against the pain for the first time since the game ended.  
“Whatever you say, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Firstly, I must thank troubledpancakes because she beta-ed this chapter and helped with all the soccer things. (It is an entire world, I must tell you.) She is amazing, and all of you should read her stuff because it is amazing. Also, thank you to everyone who had read, boomarked, Kudos-ed, or reviewed this. I say this every time and I will say it until it stops being true. (Which is never, just to let you know.)  
> Now, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I am going camping! Bad news? How can that be bad news? Because I won't be able to use the internet in a week. So, I am very sorry, but I won't be able to update in a while. I am so sorry, but thank you for your patience. You are all lovely.  
> Also, I love Oasis, and I want to forever be known for greeting people with, "What's the story, morning glory?" It is the best album.


	8. guess who's coming to dinner?

“So he really--” Octavia takes a deep breath, standing in the shallow end of the pool lane. “He really iced your ankle?”

“Yes.” Clarke catches up to the far better swimmer a few moments later. “Is that important? You keep bringing it up.”

“I don’t know,” Octavia sighs, resting slightly against the lane line separating them. “He never really did any of that for his teammates. Or the other players.”

“I’m important to the team.” Clarke shrugs, leaning next to Octavia. “I guess he just wanted to make sure I was ok.”

“Alright,” Octavia scoffs. “You know, we never did have that dinner.”

“What?” Clarke moves to the ledge of the pool, watching Octavia pull herself up and take off her swim cap. “What dinner?”

“The first night we met. I offered-- you declined. Promised that we’d have dinner another time.” She brushes a hand through her hair, shaking the tangles out as well as she can.

“Oh… that dinner.” Clarke joins Octavia on the concrete ledge in one swift motion, her own hair dripping to a new puddle beside them. . Her breathing is much more labored than the brunette beside her. Tell her to run back and forth on a soccer field for ninety minutes, no problem-- but God forbid she have to swim a few laps in a swimming pool. “Well, what harm could it do?”

Octavia smiles brightly as she pushes herself off the ground. “Are you, Clarke Griffin, implying that a simple dinner with the Blake family could be harmful?”

“No,” Clarke smirks. “I’m just saying that nothing is that simple with the two of you.” She takes Octavia’s extended hand, and Clarke rises to face the petite girl. “Should I bring anything?”

“Just your lovely self.” They turn to make their way to the showers, chlorine dripping from their skin.

“God, you’d think a journalist wouldn’t say something so trite.” Clarke tries not to return the punch Octavia throws at her for that comment.

* * *

“Are you expecting someone, O?” Bellamy follows the ring of the doorbell down the hall, pulling off his oven mitts. The last thing he wants tonight is company after laboring away for two hours making Octavia’s favorite dish. It’s been a tough day, she said. No one makes it like you, she said. I’ll clean the laundry for a month, she said. He should have known it wouldn't be so simple. “Because I really don’t like when you don’t tell me--”

“Should I come back another time?” Bellamy jumps slightly; he did not expect to see Clarke standing on the other side of the door as he turned around, a pan of chocolate brownies in her hands and a dopey smile plastered on her face. “Shouldn’t have trusted Octavia to tell you that she invited me for dinner, I suppose.”

He opens the door to allow Clarke to enter. “Well, at least everything makes sense now.” Bellamy steps aside, closing the door and following Clarke down the hall she’s only seen once. He is slightly impressed she knows exactly where the kitchen is, but it’s probably not that difficult to find.

“What are you making?” She surveys the messy kitchen. Bellamy has never been a tidy cook, by any means, always leaving his kitchen looking like a tornado passed through.

“Rellenong Manok.” Bellamy suddenly feels embarrassed. Maybe he should have cleaned up a bit while he waited for the chicken to cook. “It’s just stuffed chicken-- a Filipino dish.”

“I didn’t know you were Filipino.” The corners of her mouth tug upward slightly at the information.

She likes learning new things about Bellamy. Every time she thinks she has him figured out, he reveals another layer to the enigma.

“Our mom was Filipino.” Octavia bursts into the room, settling once she’s resting on the side of the counter. “She loved cooking with Bellamy. He’d help her whenever she would let him. He gives Gordon Ramsay a run for his money.”

“Please, if I give anyone a run for their money, it’s going to be Wolfgang Puck.” Bellamy nudges Octavia slightly before taking a quick glance at Clarke. She’s smiling, and that’s enough right now. At least she’s having a good time.

“I told you not to bring anything!” Octavia shouts when she sees the pan in Clarke’s hand. She quickly snatches it from her grasp, but smiles when she sees its contents. “Oh, you clever one. You know I’m a sucker for brownies.”

Clarke shrugs. “What can I say?” She pulls her black jacket off her shoulders. The cold outside is no match for the warmth of the kitchen. “I do my research.”

“Well, you have perfect timing.” Bellamy takes the jacket from her and sets it on the side of the bar stool. “Dinner is ready. And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t eat too many brownies. We have a game in two days, Princess.” Clarke rolled in eyes in response.

Bellamy lays down another place setting on the small table while Octavia brings out the food. They haven’t had three people at this table in two years. Aurora always kept dinners alive with jokes and anecdotes, and by asking their guests a million and ones questions. She was the life of the family table. For months after her death, Bellamy and Octavia didn’t know what to do, except to sit and eat. They occasionally asked questions and told stories, but dinner was never quite the same after their mom was no longer around to share it with.

“I haven’t gone to dinner in such a long time,” Clarke chuckles, placing her napkin neatly on her lap. “I’m sorry if I’m not the greatest guest.”

“I’m sorry if we’re not the best hosts.” Octavia grimaces. She and Bellamy share a glance and a smile. “We haven’t really had guests since our mom passed.”

Shit. Being the first guest scares Clarke. Is she talking too much? Too little? Should she listen more? Should she have come early to help cook? When did being a dinner guest become so complicated? “So, does this mean I have to stuff my face to make up for all the lost meals?”

“When Bellamy’s cooking, you should always stuff your face.” Octavia jabs her brother with her fork. Lightly, of course. The dinner conversation reaches an awkward stint after that. Clarke can’t help but feel guilty.

“I’m sorry.” Both Bellamy and Octavia look at Clarke, confused expressions matched on each of their faces. Clarke lets out a little laugh. “It’s just…I’m being so awkward. I feel badly.”

“Please,” Octavia swipes her napkin against her mouth. “Our mom used to do all the talking. We’re not very good at table talk.”

“Raven and I usually just do take-out on the couch. I haven’t really had dinner at my parent’s house in a year so I’m not used to the sitting down at a table.” Clarke smiles slightly. Her parents aren’t exactly perfectly happy in love at the moment, so she hasn’t been home in a while.

“We could eat on the couch?” Bellamy laughs, but Octavia grabs her place mat and starts to move. “Woah, really.” Clarke smirks and grabs her own plate to move to the couch. “You guys do realize I was joking?”

“It’s the only time you’ve had a good idea!” Octavia sings from the other room. He sits in an annoyed silence for a moment as he hears the two girls giggling from the other room. “You going to eat alone?” Bellamy was never one to step down from a challenge.

“Only because you’re cute.” Bellamy grins sarcastically at Octavia.

“Oh, big brother, I realize you kiss the ground I walk on, but we have a guest.” She looks pointedly at a giggling Clarke.

“Forgive me, your highness.” Bellamy makes a point of bowing deeply. “You look lovely as ever tonight. I am honored to join you at your couch table.”

“Thank you, good sir.” Clarke holds out her hand expectantly. When he raises his eyebrows at her, she instructs. “You may kiss my hand.”

“As you wish.” Bellamy grins nervously before placing a kiss on her hand.

Clarke’s heart stutters a bit. She’d always had the biggest crush on Wesley from the Princess Bride. For some reason, his comment coupled with the hand kiss throws her. She gulps and smiles. “You may take your seat.”

“As you wish.” He takes a slight pleasure in the way she shivers when he says it, and that scares him.

“So,” Octavia glances between the two of them. “How are the children?” She elaborates at the confusion on their faces, “The team?”

“Oh,” Clarke smiles, jabbing her fork into the chicken on her plate. “They’re ok. Much more motivated lately, which is nice.”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “Probably because you two aren't tearing for each other’s throats the entire time anymore.”

“We never tore at each other’s throats.” Bellamy keeps his eyes focused on the plate on his knees, moving his fork in the air as if it’ll reassure his sister. “Per se.”

“Please.” The laugh that comes from Octavia sounds almost unhuman. “I came to one or two of those early practices. I thought we’d have to call the ambulance.”

“Details, details.” Bellamy mumbles, shoulders hunched slightly so that the two girls don’t see the growing smile on his face.

“At least we got better.” Clarke insists, shaking her head at the scoffing brunette. “We’ve been better as a unit, as a team.”

“Yeah, since you’ve started to pass the ball.” Bellamy mutters, and even Octavia gasps at that. “It was a joke.” Clarke’s small smile assures him that everything is ok. “Besides, she’s playing better now.”

“Can’t imagine why when you’re there.” Octavia snorts and then gasps again. “Oh my goodness, we should go to a bar.”

“What!?” Bellamy and Clarke both exclaim as their eyes widen in shock. Octavia is only eighteen, why is she asking to go to a bar? Actually, don’t answer that.

She ignores them, still beaming. “Yeah! Playoffs are starting soon, right? After next game, you’ll know whether or not you’ve made it, and we all know you’re going to make it. You should take the team out celebrating, and bring me along. We could invite Raven too.” She’s pacing the room now, lost in her own brilliant plan for a bit of fun.

“Alcohol is not the way for an athlete to celebrate the beginning of anything.” Bellamy interjects, ignoring Octavia’s excitement over going to a bar. So, maybe he’s being a little unreasonable considering she has just started college and probably already had beer at some point. But even Bellamy waited until his sophomore year to drink. And that was only after their mother passed.

“It doesn't have to be a bar.” Octavia waves his concern off. “Sheesh.”

“I actually think it’s a great idea,” Clarke chimes in, scooting closer to Bellamy. “I mean, think about how far we’ve come. And we’ve worked them really hard since the loss against Oakfield. The team hasn't been running this smoothly in a long time. They deserve a break.”

“Well,” Bellamy gulps. “Two beats one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for disappearing. Two whole weeks! Over that, even. And I wish I had a better excuse than this chapter was very difficult to write for some reason. In any case, I am very sorry for the inexcusable amount of time it took me to update this. Also, [ troubledpancakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes) is the best beta ever because she took a very crappy chapter and made it better.  
> Thank you to everyone who has stayed with this story. I really appreciate everyone who has read, bookmarked, Kudos-ed, and reviewed this story. You are all lovely.  
> Also, the chapter title doesn't appear in the chapter (which I've been doing with every other chapter thus far because I think it's fun) because there wasn't a line from the chapter that I really wanted to use and Sidney Poitier is just amazing so let's appreciate his work.  
> As for the next update, I will do my best to not take two weeks again. (Very, very sorry.) Hopefully in a few days. No longer than a week, I hope.


	9. honorary member of the girl's club

In their final game before playoffs, they played another Georgian college. The team played well and put up a good fight, but Ark U had a five-year winning streak and they had no intentions of breaking it. The game went well. With no injuries and only one yellow card from the other team, Clarke didn’t even have to play the entire time. Ark won 2-1 easily.

Needless to say, morale was high when the team walked into the dive bar, their shouts and laughter shocking the small room and all of its three inhabitants. (The bartender and two girls playing pool quickly resumed their previous actions.) Twenty two girls manage to slide into the booths lining the back wall: leaving Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, and Octavia to find a table nearby. (Raven insisted she was an honorary member of the team while Octavia argued that she came up with the idea in the first place, therefore both should be invited to the bar as well).

“Damn, Clarke, you killed it tonight.” Raven punches Clarke’s shoulder when they take their seats, smiling excitedly. “Never been more proud of you.”

“I didn’t even play the entire time, Raven.” Clarke chuckles, squinting at the menu hanging over the bartender’s bald head. Does she want to eat probably over-greased chicken tenders and fries? Or does she want to spare the argument with Bellamy that will inevitably follow halfway through her order? That is no way for the captain of the soccer team to eat, even if we’ve just won our last game before playoffs. Do you realize what is in that? How they make it? Would you eat trash? Because that’s what you’re going to put in your body. Just because it’s chicken doesn’t mean it’s part of a well-balanced diet. Do I need to take you to Whole Foods?

“You still played really well, Clarke.” She meets Bellamy’s earnest eyes when she glances away from the menu. “Don’t sell yourself short.” He gets serious so much more often now, and it’s throwing Clarke off. Is he a snarky little shit or an earnest sweetheart? This mix and match thing is confusing her.

“Like that has ever been my problem.” Clarke laughs, turning to face the two other people at the table. “And I’ve been thinking about soccer all day. Let’s talk about swim.”

“It’s so much fun!” Octavia grins giddily, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. “We’ve had a few practices so far. Aside from our practice sessions, of course.” Octavia rests her hand on Clarke’s like she’s a child that needs to be tempered. She manages to keep a straight face for a few seconds before she starts giggling, and Clarke wonders if maybe Octavia started the party before they got to the bar.

“Practice sessions?” Raven raises an eyebrow at Clarke. She’s notorious for not being the best swimmer, but when Octavia asked she found herself unable to say no.

“Yeah, I figured I needed to practice some more.” Clarke dismisses the questions in what she hopes is a nonchalant manner.

“Princess needs to practice something, who would have guessed?” Clarke doesn’t need to look at Bellamy to know there is a smirk plastered on his face. It wasn’t even that funny.

“I never claimed to be perfect.” She avoids his eyes and keeps her own focused on Raven. “I figured if I ever had to swim across a river for any reason, I should be able to do it quickly.”

“How resourceful.” Raven shakes her head in mock contemplation. “Yes, I see how that situation would come up very often.”

“This is you all without alcohol?” Bellamy whistles. “Thank goodness you all can’t drink yet. I feel like I’d get a few very interesting calls.”

“I can drink.” Raven shrugs when Octavia and Bellamy look at her quizzically. “I’m 21. I got held back in the first grade. I spent too much time messing around with my mom’s kitchen applications when I should have been reading.”

“Looks like we’re having drinks then.” Bellamy grins at Raven. “What do you drink?”

“I’ll just take a beer, thank you.” She cocks her head to the side, watching as he walks to the bartender. She and Bellamy hadn’t talked since the night they slept together, and she figured he wouldn’t remember. He wouldn’t be the first guy to forget about her while she was away.

Clarke leans over and whispers in Raven’s ear. “What is it?” Before Raven can whisper back, Octavia leans toward the two.

“Are you guys sharing secrets? Because I want in.” The smirk on her face matches the one perpetually on her brother’s, but Octavia’s raised eyebrow just takes the cake. They all start laughing, then Raven stops. Clarke follows her gaze, and her breath catches in her throat.

Raven thought she’d never have to deal with this again. There is enough town that you can expect not to see someone again by accident. That was the plan at least. Clarke grabs her hand beneath the table, and they share a look. Octavia watches the two of them carefully. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” Clarke smiles briefly. “Just someone from our past.” Then, Finn spots the two of them from across the room. He’s sitting at a table surrounded by friends. He looks surprised, and he must not have expected to see them again either. They’d all agreed to just leave things alone and part ways. Well, Clarke and Raven decided to become friends, but that was different.

Raven stands, “I’m going to go say hello. I just,” she shakes her head to clear it, “I need to do this.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Clarke offers, still holding Raven’s hand. They both need physical comfort sometimes.

“No, I’ve known him nearly my whole life. I’ll be ok.” Raven tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’ll be back soon.” She gathers herself and strides over to the corner of the room where Finn has moved.

“Is that Finn?” Octavia asks from over her shoulder. Her eyes are glued to the scene unfolding before her. “Raven told me about what happened.” She looks back at Clarke. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Clarke is ok. She didn’t love him. Well, she did. But she wasn’t in love with him. “It was all just a big misunderstanding. I’m ok.”

“You know.” Octavia rests her hand on Clarke’s again. The action is much more serious this time. “It’s ok to not be ok.”

“What going on here?” Bellamy asks, two beers and a bowl of potato chips in his hand. “I leave and there are three girls smiling. Now, we are one short and the other two look like they’ve just come from a funeral.”

“Raven just went to talk to an old friend.” Octavia turns to look up at her brother cheerfully. “So you’ve decided to loosen up and let Clarke eat some potato chips?”

“A few.” He gives her a pointed glare, but the smile on his face detracts from the intimidation of it. “Because she’s been good.”

“Hardy har har.” Clarke drolls, grabbing a chip from the bowl he placed in the center of the table. She sneaks a few glances at Raven before she catches Bellamy looking at her. He doesn’t need to say anything for her to understand the question in his eyes. Is everything ok? She just shakes her head, smiling and grabbing another chip.

Raven returns a minute after Bellamy does, a small smile on her face. She takes her place beside Clarke and whispers into her ear. “Everything is ok. We can talk more later.” Clarke nods her head and bumps shoulders with the brunette, who is now smiling at Octavia and nodding at the other brunette’s silent inquiry.

“Look, I know you all have some sort of girl’s club in the works, but can it wait until after I’ve left?” Bellamy pouts. “I’m feeling a little excluded here.”

“Don’t worry, big brother.” Octavia claps her brother on the back. “You can be an honorary member of the girl’s club.”

Conversation flows smoothly the rest of the night. Octavia and Clarke occasionally grab chips while Bellamy and Raven sip at their beers. At some point in the evening, the team decides to have a pool tournament to decide who is the best all-around athlete on the team. It’s best not to question the team, especially since some of the seniors and juniors have been sharing their drinks with the underclassmen.

Monroe arrives on crutches just in time to join the tournament. They even invite Octavia and Raven to play. Octavia loses in the first round, but Raven makes it pretty far. In the end, Roma wins after beating Bellamy in the final game. It’s actually quite interesting to watch, even if Bellamy trips over nothing and falls several times. Alcohol truly works wonders on the man.

They all don’t leave until well after midnight. It’s a Friday, and they’re all happy (and most are probably drunk off their asses.) Clarke helps arrange cab rides for those who aren’t designated drivers or going with one. Clarke herself borrowed her mother’s car for the night. (Her mother and father went out to dinner with Dean Jaha. They took her father’s car.) She has the fortunate opportunity of taking home a very drunk Bellamy, a very drunk Raven, and...well, Clarke’s not quite sure of Octavia’s state of mind at the moment.

“Thanks for taking us home, Clarke!” Octavia kisses Clarke’s cheek and jumps out of the car, and Raven slumps down to fill up the now empty space in the back seat. Where Octavia gets all her energy, Clarke may never know.

“Thanks Clarke,” Bellamy slurs, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. Clarke holds in her laughter at the way he fumbles, leaning awkwardly over the armrest between them. “You’re a really nice person, Clarke. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if I had been a student.” He pulls back and smiles, opening the door and dragging his feet back to his house.

What the  _fuck_ is that supposed to mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope this chapter is better than the last. It took me five days to get this chapter out, and I think that's probably going to become more of a standard wait time between chapters. Now, I want thank the lovely [ troubledpancakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes) for beta-ing this chapter and making it presentable. I also want to thank anyone who has read, boomarked, Kudos-ed, or reviewed this story so far because it really means a lot that you take the time to do what you do. (Very eloquent, I know.)
> 
> As for this chapter, it was fun to write because I got to explore more with their characters (and that's always so much fun). I also think it's more in keeping with the style of the very first chapter of this story, so that's interesting. (My writing style kind of jumps all over the place sometimes.) But in any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and enjoy the rest of your day or night.


	10. what are friends for?

Clarke didn’t know how to act around Bellamy after his drunken “confession.” Bellamy didn’t treat her any differently-- he still teased her during practices about hogging the ball. He still stayed with her after practice to discuss which plays would be most efficient. Maybe he hadn’t meant anything by it. Maybe Clarke was just reading too much into a simple sentence. (Wouldn’t be the first time.) Bellamy hadn’t said he wondered romantically. He could have wondered platonically, or even academically. Nothing was for sure, but that’s probably what infuriated Clarke the most. The uncertainty of the whole situation only stressed her out more than she already was.

Then, in the middle of a coffee break with Octavia, the brunette pulls Clarke to the corner of the room and pushes her against the wall. Lightly. “What did you do to my brother?”

“What?” Clarke doesn’t bother hiding the shock spreading across her face. “I didn’t do anything to your brother. If anything, he did something to me!”

Octavia backs away from her and sighs. “I’m sorry. He’s just been acting really strangely ever since we all went to the bar, and whenever I see him asleep on the couch, he’s muttering your name under his breath. I figured you must have hurt him in some way.”

“How would I have hurt him?” Clarke can’t wrap her head around this. Bellamy wasn’t acting any differently around her. He didn’t bring anything up, but clearly Octavia must have noticed something significant if she was pushing Clarke up against walls to confront her. “Why would I have hurt him?”

“I’m sorry.” Octavia shakes her head, covering her face with her hands. “It’s just, the last time I saw him like this was after he quit soccer and Mom passed. He was really quiet all the time-- very distant. It really scared me, and I just-- I just don’t want that to happen again.”

When Clarke sees Octavia’s shoulders start to shake, she pulls the girl into her arms. “Oh my goodness, Octavia.” Octavia doesn’t cry loudly. Her shoulders just continue to shake and her breathing becomes ragged as Clarke pulls them further into the corner, away from the eyes of the other patrons. “Everything is going to be ok.”

“I was just so sure I’d lost him forever that first time.” Octavia whispers into Clarke’s neck, wrapping her arms tightly around her friend.

“You could never lose him. He’d never leave you.” Clarke smiles against her hair. “He loves you so much.” Clarke holds Octavia until her shoulders stop shaking and her breathing even out.

“I- I’m sorry. I’m scared, and I shouldn’t take that out on you.” Octavia whispers as she back away, wiping a few tears from her chin.

“What are friends for?” Clarke slings Octavia’s arm into hers and walks with her out of the coffee store. “I’ll go talk to him and see if he’s okay.”

Octavia places a kiss on Clarke’s cheek and gives her a small grin. “Thank you.”

* * *

 

“So, I really think we should talk about Roma. She has gotten so much faster in the last few weeks, and I think--”

 

“Bellamy,” Clarke interrupts him before he goes on a tirade about new strategies that may or may not be successful. Besides, Clarke promised Octavia. “Are you okay?”

He furrows his brow and looks at her quizzically. “Of course I’m fine. Do I not seem fine to you?”

Clarke is a little shocked by the aggression in his tone. They argue, sure, but she’s not making some snappy retort-- she’s checking to see if he is okay.. “Octavia talked to me.”

His shoulders slump and his head falls. She barely hears his whispered, “Fuck.” A few moments pass like this. Bellamy looking like Achilles discovering his cousin had died and Clarke holding her hands together in her lap while she waits. “What did she tell you?” His voice still just above a whisper.

“Just that you’re acting strangely, and she’s scared. Bellamy,” Clarke grabs his chin to force him to meet her eyes, “She’s really worried about you.”

“Of course she is. She’s always worried about me.” He shrinks out of her grasp and sighs. “That all?”

“Well,” Clarke tilts her head and tries to smile jokingly, “apparently you’re dreaming about me.”

His small smile isn’t what she’d hoped, but it’s a step closer than they were before. “Very funny, Clarke.”

She scoots closer to him. “But seriously, is everything okay? You can tell me if it’s not. Is it something I’m doing? Am I overstepping boundaries? I can back off with the plays and everything if you want--”

“It’s not that, Clarke.” Bellamy chuckles, but it’s more melancholy than he’d expected. “It’s just…” Bellamy can’t find the words. He hunches back slightly, and Clarke moves slightly closer. He doesn’t think it’s intentional. “You’re living the life I always wanted.” He’s never seen her vibrant blue eyes quite so shocked. “I mean, just, you get to play soccer. You could probably end up playing professionally. You seem to have everything worked out. You have parents who support you, even if you don’t always talk to them. I just, agh, I don’t know... Spending time with you makes me think of the life I might have had. And that’s a fucking ridiculous reason to be sad, but it’s my reason.”

Clarke’s mind is swimming. She is conflicted because she wants to help him in some way, but she doesn’t know how. And it’s not fair for him to say that spending time with her makes him sad. It’s just not. Because now he’ll pull away. They won’t spend time together, and she’ll have to find a way to be captain without relying on him so heavily. He can’t just do this to her. Not now. Not after how far they’ve come. “Bullshit.” She huffs, crossing her arms over his chest. “I’m sorry, but this is full of bullshit and I’m not going to accept that. I respect all the decisions you’ve made, and I know you’ve sacrificed a lot for Octavia-- but I’m sorry, I’m not going to accept that spending time with me is painful all of a sudden. Why wasn’t it painful when we first starting co-leading? Why now?”

“I don’t know, but I’d hope you’d be a little more sympathetic.” He’s getting angry now, too, and this is going to turn into a fight, she just knows it. She’s too exhausted for this again. “And if I knew why I was getting sad now, don’t you think I would do something about it?”

“Well, does it have anything to do with what you said when you were drunk of your ass?” Clarke scoffs, and leave it to her to try to fix his problems while they’re arguing.

“Why would it have anything to do with that?” Bellamy scowls and kicks the grass below the bench. He doesn’t think about his inebriated state and idiotic decisions.

“I don’t know,” Clarke throws her hands in the air. “Maybe because it started after that?” She slumps her shoulders, sighing. “I’m sorry. I just...I’ve really started to rely on you when leading the team. If something’s wrong, I just want to help you in any way I can. You can rely on me too.”

“That’s not as easy as it seems, Princess.” He laughs, reaching out and taking her hand. “But thank you. I need you too.”

If he notices the blush spreading across her cheeks and chest, he doesn’t call her out on it. She appreciates that. “So, you were talking about Roma?” She leans back slightly, smiling.

“Yes,” He grins like a child in a candy shop. “I really think we’ll be able to beat Oakfield this time.” He goes on about a new formation with Roma on the far left, but Clarke tunes out halfway through his speech. Soccer is in his blood as much as it’s in hers, and she knows he’ll always understand that part of her intimately.

She could get used to this partnership.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry for the delay. (There are no excuses, but if you want a reason - applications and such.) We've made it to the double digits! Thank you for staying with me and reading, bookmarking, Kudos-ing, and reviewing. And thank you, [troubledpancakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes), for being a wonderful beta.  
> And because I am just the bearer of bad news all the time, school starts for me on Monday, so updates might be slower. I'm very sorry because I update rather slowly already. I'll try to keep the updates fairly regular.


	11. i'd gladly be a sinner if loving you is wrong

Clarke knew that having three scientists for friends was three _too_ many, especially when those scientists seemed to always stick their noses in matters in which they should fuck off-- if they'd be so kind. The last thing Clarke needed before the National Tournament qualifying match was Jasper, Monty, and Raven making assumptions the moment Octavia left for the restroom.

"You're going to be great." Raven assures her, resting a hand lightly on Clarke's shaking shoulder. As much as she felt confident in her capabilities on the field, she still couldn't stop the chills running through her body and agitating all of her muscles.

"Thanks you guys." She manages a small smile. "It means a lot that you're here."

"You're a great team captain, Clarke." Monty smiles awkwardly tucked in beside Jasper. Clarke had caught him and Jasper making out not an hour earlier, and while Jasper thought it was just hilarious, Monty turned into as red as a beet.

"And even if you don't move on, you'll still be banging the hottest Blake sibling." Jasper wiggles his hips slightly, but the punch he receives from Raven distracts him. But Clarke's mouth is already hanging open, and Jasper thinks he might even be able to _see_ the steam shooting out her ears.

"I am not _banging_ Bellamy! For the _last_ time, he is my assistant _coach_. That is inappropriate, not to mention _so_ out of the question." A blush has taken Clarke's cheek and chest hostage.

"What's extremely _inappropriate_ is the way you two eye-fuck each other in public-- not even subtle.” Monty sighs, “Yet I'm the one who gets caught." He adds under his breath and then quickly averts his gaze when Clarke sends daggers his way.

"I mean, he has a point-- all Bellamy does during games is keep his eye on you." Raven softens at Clarke's pleading look. "I'm sorry." She smiles sympathetically as she herds an embarrassed Monty and incredulous Jasper away from the bench where Clarke continues to pace, as she had been the last ten minutes.

Clarke falls onto the bench, head in her hands as she hears Jasper shout out in falsetto, "I'd gladly be a sinner if loving you is wrong!"

She sighs and lies down. It's been sort of a tradition for Clarke to arrive at the field an hour before meeting for warm-ups. It gives her time to calm down before gathering with the team.

Probably twenty minutes before heading to the field, Bellamy places a hand on her shoulder.

They both walk to the locker room, where the rest of the girls have been giggling, pacing, and chattering excitedly with the prospect of the going to Nationals.

Clarke lets Bellamy handle the pre-game speech. He's always been better at waxing poetic and rousing the team, inspiring them to play better than they actually can. Her focus fades in and out while he speaks, but every time he glances at her during his speech, she feels an overwhelming reassurance.

But her earlier conversation keeps coming back to the forefront of her mind throughout their warm-up. They were totally wrong, _of course_ , but she couldn't keep them from swimming around in her head. The bleachers were packed as she jogged back onto the field after the team huddle, waiting for the game to start-- and still their words lingered.

She blames the three scientists when her focus jerks over to him toward the end of the game, as she is running down the field. She hears him yell at her to pass the ball to Harper, and it  takes her a moment to return her focus to the game-- eyes trains on Harper as she released a cross towards the backside of the goal.  An instant after releasing the ball, a defender slidetackles Clarke in a late foul. Clarke plummets to the ground, clutching her knee. _Her damn knee_. Everything blurs after that. She remembers hearing a whistler, seeing her team surround her as she is unable to control the tears trickling down her cheeks. She feels a body bend down beside her, strong voice in her ear. "You're going to be ok, Princess. It's all going to be ok."

_Is this how Monroe felt?_

The sharp gray attacks her senses as she fades back into consciousness. The pain in her knee begs for her whole attention, but Clarke ignores the stupid thing. It doesn't deserve her attention after its failure today. She makes out that she's in the athletic trainer's office. Sitting upright, she glances around the room-- no one else is in the room. She's tempted to just walk out, but she's in pre-med and her mother used to be an orthopedic surgeon-- she knows better.

"Clarke!" Raven shouts, as she bursts into the room. The brunette nearly attacks her when she wraps her arms around Clarke's shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. "You were so out of it when I saw you on the field. I ran straight here when I found out where you were."

_So, she hasn't been knocked out for all that long._

Raven pulls back and discreetly wipes a tear from her eyelash, sitting at the end of the bed. "Are you feeling better?"

"Slightly." Clarke grimaces when she looks her her knee. It's currently wrapped-- good thing, since it’s probably the size of a grapefruit. "Where is everyone? Is the game over yet?"

Raven shakes her head, chuckling. "Not yet, soccer fanatic. It's in overtime. I passed Bellamy on the way here. He helped get you off the field, but he still needs to coach for the rest of the game."

Clarke laughs. "Thanks, swimfan."

Raven lightly shoves Clarke, an accusatory look on her face. "You know that movie scares the shit out of me!" The girls are grinning and giggling when they hear loud cheers and a horn signalling the end of the game. Clarke pales as her eyes widen, and Raven moves to sit next to her. "Hey-- it's ok either way. You and the team played a _great_ season. You have so much to be proud of."

"Like my major screw up today. I got distracted and risked the game." Clarke leans into Raven's shoulder. "How could they ever forgive me?"

"Clarke!" Octavia shoves the door open, a nearly feral grin on her face. "We won, we won, we won! We're going to nationals!" She runs to the two girls and pulls them both into an awkward embrace. "Think of what a story this is turning out to be."

Clarke suddenly feels like she wants to cry.

"You press are so insensitive." Raven smacks Octavia on the arm, grinning happily.

"Oh, I'm plenty sensitive." She smirks. "But I have my priorities."

"What happened?" Clarke presses her younger friend for more information, a large grin on her face but twenty different emotions tugging at her heart. She needs to know exactly how everything happened. She'll worry about the sore muscles she'll get from smiling much later.

"You'll never believe it. You know Kayla? That freshman girl who's majoring in library sciences? She scored the winning goal! It was beautiful, and Bellamy can probably tell you all the technical stuff later. But you guys are going to nationals!" Octavia squeals.

"Damn right we are." Clarke smirked. All three girls look to the door to see Bellamy leaning lazily against the frame.

"The whole girls club is here!" Octavia smiles giddily, rushing over to attack her brother with a hug like she did Clarke and Raven. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks, 'Tavia," he mumbles into her hair. "But I'd appreciate if you didn't choke me." He separates from Octavia and looks over at Clarke, a worried look returning to plague his features. "Are you doing any better? I would have stayed, but I couldn't just leave the team. I wanted to stay--"

"Bellamy," Clarke interrupted. "It's fine. I understand." The sides of his eyes crinkle with his smile, and she thinks it helps a little with the pain.

"Hey Octavia, Jasper has my jacket. Could you help me _find him_?" Raven says through her teeth as she glides over to the younger girl and links their arms together.

"It would be an honor." Octavia marches out the room, dragging Raven only slightly.

Clarke watches them leave, frustrated. If they'd at least tried not to make it so obvious, it would not have been so mortifyingly embarrassing. Bellamy, however, doesn't seem to have noticed as he strides over to where she is sitting. "You have to stop worrying me like this. I'm going to start graying at twenty three, and then _no one_ will love me."

"You have other good qualities." Clarke smiles. "Like your wrinkles."

"Hardy har har. Very funny, Miss ' _I have lovely blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes so I don't need to care about other people's feelings_.’”

"You think I'm beautiful?" Clarke smiles, a slightly giddy gleam in her eyes.

"I said your eyes were beautiful. Difference." Bellamy pokes her on the nose, and Clarke has the good sense to grab his hand. Only she forgets to let go. "Clarke..."

"Bellamy." Both challenge the other to let go, but neither do. "You could lose your job." She warns.

"I know." He moves his other hand to her cheek. "Your parents could cut you off." He says, eyes glued on her lips.

"I know," She wraps an arm around his shoulder. "...are you going to pull away?"

"Are you?" He whispers, breath mingling with hers as their lips brush against each other.

She answers him by leaning in the last ten percent, locking her lips onto his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been nearly 15 days since I've updated, and I'm very sorry! School started on the 18th, and adjusting has taken longer than I thought it would. I'm really sorry about that. But thank you for sticking with me, reading, reviewing, boomkaring, and Kudos-ing! Also, thank you to my beta [troubledpancakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes). She's actually the best.  
> I hope this chapter was worth that ungodly wait. But, guys! They finally kissed! Over 13,000 words in the making. As for the next chapter, I hope to get it up in a week, but I honestly cannot guarantee anything. I'm very sorry about that, but my course load and college applications are monopolizing my time.  
> In any case, thank you for staying with me.


	12. didn't know you liked her liked her

Clarke does her best not to disrupt Raven, peacefully sleeping on the couch. She really does-- but she can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes her mouth as she seemingly floats over (with her new crutches, of course) to the brunette’s temporary bed.

“Shit, girl.” Raven groans as she sits up slowly, pulling her knees to her chest so that Clarke can rest her bad leg on the coffee table. “What is so important that you had to wake me up from my slumber with your laughter? Have a hot date?”

“Yes, the bleach white walls of the hospital really set the mood.” Clarke clasps her hands together and holds them to her heart, sighing. “Nothing gets me going _quite_ like the dull buzz of the X-ray machines.”

“How romantic.” Raven deadpans, lightly shoving Clarke’s shoulder. “But really, give me something.”

“I would.” Clarke shrugs, shaking her head. “But I’ve got nothing to give. He’s barely even touched me since yesterday… He has been very sweet though.” She laughs at Raven’s disgusted groan. Clarke had been so excited yesterday to tell the dark-haired girl that she’d kissed Bellamy, but he hadn’t brought it up when he took her to the hospital for an X-ray. He’d joked and laughed with her, trying to get her mind off her pain-- but that was no different than his behavior before the kiss. Clarke had forgotten how confusing Bellamy could be.

“He’s skittish, huh?” Raven tilts her head to the side, looking intently at her friend. “I might have some ideas.”

“Oh no.” The blonde crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to let you put me in some pretty dresses when one of my knees is twice its usual size.”

“It could be sexy.” Raven laughs while Clarke huffs next to her, playfully slapping Raven’s arm. “Sexy times aside, is everything ok? I mean, not just with Bellamy.”

Clarke sighs, rubbing her hands over her face. “I suppose. I won’t find out anything substantial for a week, but needless to say, I’ll be on the sidelines during the national tournament.” A small grin forms on her face, lighting up her eyes. “Bellamy will be so manic. ‘ _Princess, they can’t run left!_ ’ and ‘ _Roma has to pass to Harper!_ ’ and definitely a ‘ _What the hell, ref, are you blind?! ...Ok, maybe that was maybe a good call._ ’” She furrows her eyebrows when Raven puts a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head.

“Honey, I think you’re in deep.” She laughs and hugs her confused friend. “This apartment must have a thing for Blake siblings.” Clarke mouth drops open.

* * *

 

“I know this is awkward.” Octavia holds Bellamy down on the couch with her hands on his shoulders. “But she makes me happy.”

“I mean…” Bellamy closes his mouth, trying to formulate a coherent thought that doesn’t make him sound like an imbecile. So, Octavia is dating Raven. The Raven that he slept with a year ago. The Raven who is bisexual. The Raven whose roommate is Clarke. Don’t even get him started on what Clarke is. “I just… I didn’t even know you liked her. I mean, I knew you liked her. I just didn’t know you _liked her_ liked her.”

“Bellamy,” Octavia lets out a sigh, smile bright on her face. “We’re not five, ok? It’s not that big of a deal. I mean, it’s not like you weren’t attracted to the people I hooked up with before!”

“But I didn’t date them!” He groans when he sees the hurt and shock in Octavia’s eyes. He shouldn’t have yelled. “I’m sorry-- I’m being an ass. I’m happy for you and Raven! She’s been very kind to you as you’ve started swimming more seriously, and I appreciate that.”

“Are you ok?” Octavia moves to sit next to her brother, holding his hands in her own. “I thought you and Clarke had worked everything out.”

“I mean, acknowledging your sexual attraction and possibly more than platonic feelings just makes things more complicated.” He leans his head against Octavia's shoulder, albeit slightly awkwardly with the difference in heights. “And I’m her coach. I may not have read all the rules, but I’m pretty sure that dating a player is a big _no-no_.”

“If it makes you feel any better, she’s still probably emotionally older than you.” She lets a smirk spread across her face as Bellamy pulls away in mock anger.

“I resent that remark.” He slides away, back turned toward her. “I am extremely emotionally mature. I have a job. And I demand an apology.”

She punches his tricep, and he hisses slightly. Her punches have gotten stronger and he's not sure if Raven has played any part in that… probably has. “I’m sorry, big brother, for trying to talk some sense into you. I don’t want to just give you all these banal platitudes about being scared and overcoming that to find happiness, but I _like_ Clarke. You two argue and laugh and smile, and I want that for you. I can’t say Clarke will be the great _love of your life_ , but don’t scratch her out of your life, just yet, ok?”

Bellamy smiles, moving back to hug his baby sister. It occurs to him that she’s not such a baby anymore. “Does this mean you’re going to make us all go on double dates?”

She laughs, but doesn’t push him away. “I reserve the right to ask Raven and Clarke.”

She does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel horribly. I keep making promises I can't keep. School presented some unexpected complications and set backs (mainly, wow, did not expect first semester senior year to be so stressful.) I'm sorry it's been so long. Unfortunately, I can't say exactly when I'll get the next chapter up, but I think we're almost done! That's good news, right?  
> In any case, thank you to everyone who had read, reviewed, Kudos-ed, and bookmarked this story. It makes going through the day worthwhile. Also, thank you to my beta [troubledpancakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes). I've never had a beta before, and she's just amazing (and also a great writer, so check out her stuff too).  
> Also, I didn't realize I shipped Octavia and Raven until I started writing this story so...that's fun! An interesting and happy turn of events. Additionally, I just realized that Bellamy pulled a Charles Boyle (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) with "liked her liked her" so yay!


	13. the two also hated each other

**Ark U's women's soccer team finishes second in the nation, but not without a few setbacks**

**by Octavia Blake**

Two years ago, everyone in college soccer knew the name _Bellamy Blake_. As a junior, he'd been at the top of his game, and many predicted a successful career as a professional player. But he dropped out and fell off the radar only to appear two years later at a local Georgian college as an assistant coach.

Fortunately for our women's soccer team, that school was our very own Ark University. Leading under Coach Thelonious Jaha and with newly promoted co-captains Elizabeth Monroe and Clarke Griffin, many students felt hopeful for the upcoming soccer season.

That is, until Monroe broke her ankle early on in the season and Coach Jaha fell ill with mononucleosis, on the same day. Left to lead the team were Blake and Griffin, a sophomore.

The two also hated each other.

"It was difficult at first," claimed Junior Roma Jackson. "They'd argue until one of them stormed out, leaving the other to try to lead practice."

Things continued in the same manner until Blake sprained his ankle after practice one night and was forced to let Griffin help him. The two reached an understanding: if the team  was ever going to succeed, they would need to work together.

The team won the next two games easily, and people started talking about the new leaders of the women's soccer team.

"It was funny to watch them after they'd started working together." Senior Harper Matthews recalls, "They'd quibble about silly things, but they'd get stuff done and make good plays."

So began the business relationship of Blake and Griffin. The two worked effortlessly off each other, communicating seamlessly without ever opening their mouths. They had two important things in common: they loved soccer and they were good at it.

So the team's loss against Oakfield came as a surprise to everyone. "The worst thing was that I knew we could have beaten them-- we were the superior team." Griffin sighs with a shake of her head. "It wasn't even the team's fault. I made the mistake." Mistake or not, Griffin proved to be an invaluable member to the team, scoring two goals in the final game of regular season.

Griffin had played on the team her freshman year and stood out very quickly despite her age. She started playing soccer long before you ever got your Facebook account. She chose Ark U because the women's soccer program has over and over again proved to be one of the best in the nation. When the team asked her to lead with Monroe, she felt overwhelmed. "It's hard to lead a team as a sophomore-- there is always an authority struggle when it comes to the juniors and seniors. I'm younger than a lot of the players on the team, but I earned their respect  because I work hard and I play well."

That fearless dedication to soccer makes Griffin a terrifying force on the field, and her game demands respect when she plays. So when Griffin fell to the ground in the determining game in the national tournament, the crowd was silenced in fear.. When she was carried off the field, everyone's hopes were bleak. Yet, despite the setbacks, Kayla Fisher, a freshman and walk-on with only two years of high school playing experience, stepped up to score the game-winning goal in overtime. The team advanced in the tournament, but Griffin would be left to join them on the sidelines.

With a dislocated knee, she walked onto the field behind the rest of the team in the last game of the season against Stanford, a well-known opponent, having defeated Ark in a harrowing loss three years prior. From the sidelines, she watched her teammates play a difficult game, fighting tooth and nail to score a well-earned three goals. Unfortunately, Stanford was just as prepared-- scoring four to take the championship.

The team, always full of surprises, did not hang their heads in shame. They cheered and congratulated the other team. They celebrated their successful season not as losers but winners who placed _second_ in the nation. This team knew they were a force to be reckoned with, and they wouldn’t be backing down.

"I couldn't be happier with them." Blake laughs through a smile after the final game. "They've come so far this season, and I'm so proud. I love the game, and this team has done it proud today."

When asked about Griffin, he shook his head and laughed. "You know about her already." (With their permission, I'm allowed to inform you that the two have started dating. They've also allowed me to tell you that if you try to involve yourself in their business, I will personally deal with the problem.)

As for next year, Blake has been offered a head-coaching position at neighboring university and had accepted, leaving Ark after one season. The team will miss him, but he assures that he will only be a town away and would gladly assist in whatever way he could if needed. With Jaha Monroe returning, as well as newcomer John Miller stepping in as the new assistant coach, the team's next season looks hopeful.

"He's amazing," Monroe says of Miller. "He really knows the game, and he will really help us next season."

Griffin, who is glad for her co-captain to return, had this to say about next year: "I'll miss leading with Bellamy, but we are all proud of him. He's leaving us a better team, and next year we're going to kick ass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm a terrible person. Please don't hate me. I'm so sorry this is so late!! (I hate applications.) It's been over a month and for that I apologize. But what's done is done, so thank you for putting up with my writing schedule and sticking with this story. As always, I must thank my lovely beta, [ troubledpancakes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes). She alleviates my mediocrity and just makes everything sugar and spice and everything nice. (Also, read her fanfiction. GUSH) Additionally, thank you to everyone who has read, Kudos-ed, bookmarked, or reviewed this story. I appreciate each and every one of you.  
> It's over! Can you believe it? I started this before school started and life punched me in the face for thinking I could actually plan things. I decided to finish with Octavia's article for the school paper because I'd mentioned it before, and I didn't want to leave that unfinished. (If you like article-formatted fanfics, I strongly recommend reading [ the feel-good hit of the summer ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2389424) by [ disco_vendetta ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/brinn/pseuds/disco_vendetta) because it is amazing.) Again, just thank you for sticking with my during this process. I've never really written more than oneshots, so this was an experience. I've learned a lot and hopefully will be able to write better multichapter stories in the future! THANK YOU. Go in peace. (Can you tell I go to a Catholic school?)


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